


What makes a place feel like home?

by butwelivehappilyeverafter



Category: Archie Comics, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hurt Jughead Jones, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Southside Serpent Betty Cooper
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-19 00:45:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14225445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butwelivehappilyeverafter/pseuds/butwelivehappilyeverafter
Summary: Betty Cooper has felt unmoored since her parents messy divorce landed her in Riverdale and straight into a downward spiral.Toledo was nothing but a house to him. But when Jughead returns to Riverdale he is devastated to find the place he still considers his home isn't the same town as when he left.





	1. What makes a place feel like home?

**Author's Note:**

> Have I been stupid and started a new fic? You mother fucking bet I did.
> 
> I hope you enjoy, I have a lot of plans for this...

“I can’t believe you’re really doing this, Gladys”

FP held Jughead in a bruising embrace, refusing to let go until Gladys physically prised his eight-year-old son away from him and pulled the sobbing boy behind her. Rain had soaked them all through, but the damp conditions didn’t deter the crowd that had gathered at the obnoxiously loud, public argument.

“I’m sorry FP, but this isn’t an appropriate place for children to grow up” She argues, roughly dragging Jughead behind her as he reaches desperately for his father, his vision blured by the downpour. “Toledo is a lot safer and miles away from that gang”

FP’s eyes are bloodshot and his hands tremble as he points an accusatory finger at his wife. “That gang is family! You don’t betray your own!”

The irony was not lost on him as Gladys scoffed and yanked open the truck door, forcing Jughead inside, squishing him against Jellybean’s substantial car seat. She shoved her sons head down as he attempted to climb back out and run inside to the place he called home.

To him, this was all backwards. He’d never been close with his mother, the woman who had resented him since birth. But now she - not his father - was taking him to live somewhere miles away from the man who’d raised him. Right now, staying with his drunk of a father was a better option than leaving with a woman who had done nothing but ignore him for most of his life. Jughead’s crying only increased as Gladys forcefully buckled him into his booster seat and slammed the door dangerously close to his fingers, shutting him up instantly.

“Until you’re ready to support your biological family, FP, the family you created with me, you’re on your own. I’ll be sending the divorce papers in the mail”

Years later, Jughead still remembered how he cried silently the entire way to his grandparents, the memory of his father breaking down to a heap on the ground as the truck pulled away was seared into his brain. His cheek had ached terribly from the smack delivered there by his mother that morning when he’d refused to help his three-year-old sister pack up her belongings for their ‘new life’. But that physical pain was nothing compared to the pain and dread he felt in the pit of his stomach as he’d watched his home fade away into the distance.

***

2 years later

 

“Welcome to Riverdale. The town with PEP!”

“You’re going to love it here girls” Alice repeated as the endless motorways faded into tree lined lanes. The customary Sweet Water river ran to their left as they sped through a town that looked perfectly suited to the front of a postcard.

So far Betty and Polly had already been promised this new town was going to be just like Greendale, only better. Warmer, but not stifling. Also, more fun, but not enough t distract them from their studies.

Their mother was adamant, even though their father had left his 11 and 13-year-old daughters high and dry, nothing was going to change. This was complete and utter bullshit Betty though as they drove to their new home.

The youngest Cooper was pressed against the door, bags and pillows squeezed into the gap between her and Polly as she thought about the life she was leaving behind.

It hadn’t been a particularly happy one. She’d hadn’t had many friends with Alice’s strict standards and her school mates had only ridiculed her perfect image. It didn’t help her mother and father were constantly at each other’s throats. Polly had even once told her she was only born to save their marriage, which evidently hadn’t worked. She had to hand it to Hal Cooper, he’d at least waited till the summer she moved up to middle school to ruin their lives and run off with Polly’s best friend’s mom. Because god forbid she had to be pulled out of school. How would that look to other parents.

It was a ridiculous situation and all Betty wanted to do was curl up into a ball and cry. However, Alice Cooper’s overbearing unwillingness for any daughter of hers to show weakness meant all her emotions were to be bottled up until she was just about ready to explode.

As they hit a bump in the road, Betty realised that the suburban daydream they’d been driving through before had suddenly disappeared as their station wagon crossed the invisible economic barrier. The houses now were whitewashed breezeblock and plastic doors. Some letterboxes hung off their hinges and Betty swallowed nervously at the prospect of living here. She didn’t mean to be classist, but it was had to not harbour some prejudices with Alice Cooper as a parent.

Their house in Greendale had been your typical 4-bedroom, white picket fence fantasy. Meticulously clean, spotless in places, with Betty’s room in particular screaming middle class reverie. But that had all been left behind, their possessions packed in multiple floral bags and shoved in the boot to be taken to this place, which appeared the exact juxtaposition to the Cooper families pastel fever dream.

The engine spluttered slightly as they turned sharply into a gate tastefully labelled ‘Sunnyside Trailer Park’. Its title gave her a momentary sense of optimism before she looked around and realised it was defiantly a misnomer. The park was full of gloom and defiantly no sunshine. Fully equipped with dirty, old fashioned trailers that were not unlike the people surrounding them.

They seemed to drive around the whole park before pulling up in front of a clean - but worn-down - trailer. Betty, deciding to try and embrace their new reality, jumped out of the car excitedly to be met by the smell of smoke. Her nose scrunched up in disgust as she realised it wasn’t the normal smoke her mother smelled of when she’d step outside after a particularly fierce fight with Hal. This smell was strange and intoxicating; its source a small group of teen loitering outside the trailer next door.

Just as Betty began to follow the wispy trail, she was yanked back by Alice and before she knew it there were several of her bags hanging off her small frame.

“I’ve unlocked the door honey, can you take those inside” Alice instructed, smiling far too wide for it to be considered natural. Betty took in the humorous image of Alice Cooper, standing on the muddy ground in lavender heels, before she begrudgingly hauled the luggage inside. She struggled slightly over a bump in the carpet as she dropped it all in the main living space.

It was small, especially in comparison to their previous residence. The walls were primarily dark wood panelling, everything else painted an off-putting shade of green. It was almost completely bare too, beside a small coffee table and a beat-up couch that sat in the corner of the main room.

“Well we’ll be getting rid of that for starters” Alice announced, kicking the door open and eyeing the couch with distain as she deposited a box of labelled ‘kitchen’ onto a counter in the adjoining room. “Now. You and Polly are sharing the room at the end of the corridor so take the bags you’ve abandoned into your own space instead of cluttering up our communal area”

Betty rolled her eyes as she collected up her possessions and walked the short distance to her and Polly’s room. She’d been optimistic to assume her mother would loosen her grip on her daughters just because they’d moved. The standard here was almost definitely lower than back in Greendale, but it was unlikely Alice would let her personal standards for them drop.

Betty flung opened the door to be met by another empty, almost depressing room. Immediately, she dropped her bags and followed them down, crumpling to the ground and finally letting the tears flow.

No matter what her mother or anyone else might say, this place would never be her home.

***

6 years later

 

“Hey!”

Betty rolled her eyes and turned to face a red head who was currently sporting a shit eating grin and the keys to an ugly, blue convertible twirling on his finger.

“Fancy a ride home, or even better back to mine?”

“Okay, first of all" Betty began, pulling a helmet out of her backpack, "I’m literally standing next to my bike”

The boy looked confused as she eyes his letterman jacket with distain. “And secondly, why the fuck would I ever accept a ride from you of all people”

“Look, snake, I’m doing you a favour” He replied, demeanour changing immediately as he realised Betty wasn’t going to throw herself at his feet.

“You’re doing me a favour?” She scoffed, stepping dangerously close to the Northside jock. “Enlighten me”

“Well it’s not exactly hot to get with a serpent, at least you can tell I’m really interested and not just looking for an easy lay”

Betty, who had been reaching for the switchblade in her pocket, laughed at his stupidity and backed off. “Wow, tell me why you don’t have a girlfriend with panty dropping lines like that!” She replied, writing him off as a naive fuckwit rather that someone who posed an actual danger.

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, visibly offended, as Betty bit her lip to stop herself laughing out loud.

“I mean, offending girls isn't going to get you very far. Just compliment them dude, it’s not that hard.” She chuckled, mounting her bike and kicking away the balance.

“Wait... tell me what I did wrong again” He pleaded before watching the blonde disappear down the road, the large serpent on her back seeming to leer at him as she travelled further into the distance.

***

“It’s time to get off son” The bus driver stated, shaking Jughead’s shoulder gently.

He woke with a start and pulled his hat further down on his reddening ears. “Umm thanks” He mumbled, retrieving his bag, and noticing the previously busy bus was empty. Looking around he caught the bus drivers eye and asked, “This is Riverdale, right?”

“Sure is, this is the last stop outside Southside Cemetery before I do the trip all over again.” The driver replied, smiling widely. He seemed far to friendly in Jughead's book. “It’s ok we’re at the Southside right, because I can always drive back up to the Northside if you want, no charge. If I’m honest I enjoy the company, and I could always bust out my favourite playlist-”

“That’s ok” Jughead replied as he scrambled to the door. This guy was giving off some major creep vibes and he didn’t exactly want to stick around and find out what he was capable of.

“Oh, are you sure” The man shouted to him as Jughead pulled his bag onto his back without slowing his brisk walk down the aisle.

“Yeah, I’m sure man” Jughead shouted over his shoulder as he darted through the open door and out onto the streets of Riverdale.

Despite the strange familiarity he felt, Southside had changed; that much was obvious. When he’d been young, Jughead remembered the streets always being unkempt, but it was clear a certain sense of fear had overcome his old hometown. There was barley anyone on the sidewalk and any who braved them were faceless; their hoods pulled up over their faces and hands in pockets as they hurried into the safety of nearby buildings.

Looking to his left, the shop fronts were either blank or cracked, duck-tape holding together more than one’s glass door panel. It was unquestionable that the economy was fracturing, but surely some shops would still be open. Or at least own a semi operable door.

It seemed almost deserted as Jughead pulled the printed directions out of his backpack. He couldn't remember an exact address when he'd been on google maps, but the number 32 and name 'Sunnyside Trailer Park' had stuck with him like a bad dream for the past 8 years.

For a small place, the southside had many narrow street and alleyways. So many that it took Jughead a good half hour before he saw the peeling sigh for Sunnyside Trailer Park. Any confidence he once had was well and truly squashed as he walked onto the threshold of the place he still considered his home. The sign squeaked in the wind as the dark-haired boy ventured inside, spotting many residents outside their trailers, none of whom he recognised,

Jughead froze as he approached his father’s trailer, the one that had been his own home for 8 years. The consequences of what he was about to do, turning up unannounced to his estranged father’s residence, hit him like a freight train. What if he didn’t recognise him? What if he sent him away? Would he even want a son like him in his life anyway?

Physically shaking the self-deprecation from his mind, he knocked firmly on the door only to receive no answer. He tried several times before turning the door handle to find it unlocked. In hindsight, it was incredibly stupid to walk in uninvited, but with the adrenaline pumping through his veins Jughead eased open the door and walked inside. As soon as he did, however, he knew something was wrong

Everything seemed clean, too clean. The couch was new and so was everything else. The walls had been redecorated plain white, the tv was a flat screen, a potpourri bowl sat innocently on the coffee table and there was a fucking vase of lemon on the kitchen counter. Either his Dad had had a complete personality 180 in the years he’d been gone, or Jughead had severely fucked up.

It wasn't until he eyed Teen Vogue that he knew he needed to get out of there and fast.

Jughead was about to turn and leave when the slamming of a door left him frozen in his tracks. He couldn't bring himself to move, or even attempt to hide when a girl emerged from the corridor to his left clad in a pastel robe and slippers.

She was heading for the kitchen so, thank god hadn't seen him yet. Jughead knew he should just attempt to move, he was pushing his luck as it was, but he was suddenly distracted. 

She was beautiful, the closest Jughead had ever seen to a Hitchcock blonde in the flesh. Her skin was freckled and her cheeks were flushed. Her sodden locks were down to around her collar bone and curled slightly at the ends as they dried. He soaked up everything he could about her, utterly transfixed.

Suddenly, there was a scream and Jughead found himself broken from his chance when a paperback was launched at his head with surprising force.

“What the fuck!” She squealed, clutching the robe so tight her knuckled turned white

Jughead rubbed his head as his cheeks turned a deep crimson. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. The door was open and-” He panicked, cutting himself off as he tried to think of a way to explain why he’s still standing here.

"What? So you thought you'd just walk in?" The girl asked, edging dangerously close to a utensil pot labelled 'Knives'.

"No, no. Look, I'm just trying to find my dad." Jughead tried to explain, coming across a lot less coolly as he'd like. "I must have got the wrong trailer."

The girl finally stood still and looked him up and down. Her tough exterior slipped for a minute and Jughead could see she was clearly shaken by him being there. She didn't say anything as her eyes stayed fixed on his face and Jughead took that as a que to leave.

"I'm so sorry about this" he said awkwardly, tuning back toward the door.

"Wait." The girl spoke, her voice still unsteady. "You scared the crap out of me, but maybe I can help you find him?"

"Really?"

"Everyone knows everyone around here." She said, staying safely behind the counter. "What's his name?"

"Forsythe Pendleton Jones."

"Wait, FP?" The girl asked, taken aback.

"If that's what he's going by these days." Jughead answered. "So you know him?"

"Of course I know FP, everyone in this park does."

"So, you know where he is?"

"Yeah...sorry it's just, FP's really your dad?"

Jughead nodded, slightly confused. "Yeah, so can you tell me where he is?"

"Sorry, he doesn't live at Sunnyside anymore" She composed herself as she spoke, still clutching her robe. "He lives in a flat above the Whyte Wyrm across town."

"Oh. Can you give me some directions?"

"Let me get dressed and I'll take you" The girl said, gesturing to the pristine sofa behind him. "Sit down if you want."

"Are you sure?"

"You'll be doing me a favour, if FP finds out I let you walk on your own he'll have me on the night shift all week" The girl explained, scrambling back toward the corridor she'd come from. "Give me a minute."

Another door slammed and Jughead was left more confused than ever.

***

“Shit” Betty mumbled, her back up against her bedroom door. What the fuck was FP’s son doing here?

She knew FP had had a wife and kids but nobody in the serpents knew exactly what had happened and if they did, they didn't talk about it. It had all happened years before she joined the serpents so she never thought it her place to pry. There were rumours of course but nobody really knew except FP himself.

Panicking, Betty pulled on the nearest clothes she could find . There was no question that the boy in her living room was FP's son, the resemblance was uncanny she thought, pulling a brush through her tangled hair. However, she had no idea why he's suddenly turned up at her home. 

Looking in the mirror, Betty frowned. Her hair was still soaked, her face was still flushed and her skin wasn't great. Feeling an overwhelming desire to reach for her foundation she stopped herself. Why did she care what she looked like? This was stupid.

Taking a deep breath, Betty strode into the living room and saw FP’s son hunched over his phone.

“There’s no signal here” She announced as he nearly leapt a foot in the air in surprise. “Shockingly, it isn’t a major priority in the mayor’s office for Southsider’s to be able to communicate with one another.”

“Oh” He paused, looking thoughtful down at the floor. He was silent for a few seconds, seeming to collect himself.

“Hey, umm, what’s your name?” He asked, looking up to make eye contact for the first time.

Betty, feeling suddenly hot under the collar, cleared her throat. “I'm Betty”

He smiled, staring up at her. “This is when you usually tell me yours….”

“Oh yeah, sorry, Jughead Jones.” He murmured, looking back at the phone in his hand.

“Look, I’m sorry… again… for coming in here unannounced and all. I didn’t mean to upset you or anything-”

“You can stop apologising now” Betty smiled warmly, her first real smile, she thought, in months. There was something charming about how nervous he was, and it was a pleasant change from the dickhead’s she usually dealt with. “It’s ok”

Jughead visibly relaxed aa neither spoke, each taking the other in. Betty was intrigued to say the least. His clothes were relatively new if slightly crumped. His boots, however, were combat style and very broken in, and that beanie was something else. It was weird, and she’d never seen anything like it on an actual person.

Jughead, however, kept his eyes locked intently on her face, studying her eyes and the blush that was still present on her cheeks, not daring to travel any lower after the shower incident.

“Well” Betty broke the moment, turning her back to him and grabbing the jacket that hung on the back of a chair. “Let’s go take you to see your dad.”

“Where is he?” Jughead asked, leaping into action and almost falling as he hit his shin on the coffee table.

Betty held back a laugh as Jughead tried to play it off, wincing as he walked. "It's Saturday Evening, so he'll probably be at the Wyrm. We can go on my bike."

Heading for the door, Betty pulled on her jacket and that’s when Jughead noticed the emerald snake emblazed on the back.

She was a serpent.

On reflection, it all added up. Teenager living on the Southside with apparently little parental supervision who knew exactly where his middle aged father would be on a Saturday night. Of course she was part of the Serpents and of course his father was still running the biker gang.

Jughead’s signature scowl returned as he followed the mysterious Betty, who had failed to give a last name, out to a motorbike parked around the side of the trailer.

“You’ll have to ride on the back” Betty explained, mounting the bike and handing him the helmet she was carrying. “Take this, I don’t have a spare.”

“I can’t take your helmet Betty” Jughead sighed, she’d already been far too gracious in giving him a lift in the first place, he couldn’t let her ride unprotected too.

“Please Jughead, your dad would skin me if I let the Serpent Prince ride unprotected.” She teased.

Jughead rolled his eyes and reluctantly took the helmet. "Please don't call me that." 

The helmet wasn’t what he’d have expected from the way Betty had behaved so far. The helmet itself was a shade of pastel pink he’d only ever seen on the walls of 5-year-old’s. But it was the gold print, B.C. in small letters on the back, that caught his eye. At least he was getting somewhere with the last name he was too afraid to ask for.

After running his fingers along the cursive lettering, Jughead loosened whatever fixings he could find, removed his beanie and placed the helmet on his head with a grimace. Fastening the buckle around his chin, he shoved the hat into his back pocket and tried to negotiate a way to get onto the bike without making a total fool of himself.

Betty put the key in the exhaust and begun to grow inpatient with Jughead’s unwillingness. “Look, your lanky enough, just swing one of your legs over and sit down.”

“Fine” Jughead mumbled, almost tumbling off the other side as he sat on board. Once he had straddle the machine, he sat there awkwardly, not knowing quite what to do next.

“If you stay like that, you’re going to fall right off the back you do realise.” Betty laughed. “You have to hold on”

“To what?” Jughead questioned, eyes wide.

Betty bit her lip to stop herself laughing. “You need to hold onto me.” She giggled as Jughead’s eye went even wider than before and he just stared blankly back at her. “Haven’t you ever ridden a bike before?”

“My dad isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but he has enough common sense to know not to put a small child on a motorbike” Jughead remarked, offering her a small smile which she returned.

“Here, like this.” Betty said, turning around as much as possible she grabbed both his hands and locked eyes with him.

Jughead was the spitting image of his father, dark and dangerous, with identical sharp jaw line and all. But as she looked at this stranger, she saw he held a kind of boyish charm and vulnerability that fascinated her. Also, his eyes; his eyes were something else. Their shade of deep blue was drawing her in as she just stared.

Jughead raised his eyebrows and smirked. Shit.

Clearing her throat, Betty grabbed his hands and placed them on her waist in a vain attempt at distracting him. Unfortunately, it had the opposite reaction as she felt a strange shiver wracking her own body at the contact.

“Now” She whispered, clearing her throat for a second time and tearing her eyes away from his. “You basically have to hug me if you don’t want to fall off the back so get ready.”

Before Jughead had a chance to compose himself, Betty had kicked the balance away and he was clinging to her small body for dear life as, together, they began the drive to the Whyte Wyrm from the trailer.

***

“Here we are” Betty reviled, sliding off the bike and gesturing flamboyantly to the crumbling building that stood before them.

“I'm pretty sure my dad told me about this place when I was little, never thought I'd ever come here though.” Jughead sighed as he slinked off the bike himself. “And wearing a pink helmet? This is one for the memoirs.”

Betty turned around to see him smirking at her, holding out the helmet and trying not to laugh at his own joke. Biting her lip, she rolled her eyes and grabbed it.

“If you must know, I didn’t choose it myself. It was a gift.”

“From who, an elderly relative who doesn’t know you’re not 5 years old anymore” He chuckled, leaning back on the bike and crossing his ankles.

A genuine smile broke out over her face as he raised his eyebrows. “Ok my grandma is actually a really nice person, she just hasn’t grasped the fact I do age when I don’t see her.” She explained animatedly, walking toward Jughead as he just stared on at the blonde in front of him. “Plus, you’re one to talk. Exactly how long have you owned that tatty hat!”

“Okay, okay” Jughead held his hands up in defence. “So... where's my dad"

“Follow me and stay close." Betty explained as she turned toward the building and led the way inside, blonde waves bouncing as she strutted up to the entrance with a scrambling Jughead on her heels.

He caught up and grabbed her shoulder. “Hey, slow down, where’s the fire.” He joked again causing another smile to break out on her face.

“Not my fault you can’t keep up” She breathed before continuing up the steps even faster than before.

Betty wasted no time, pushing through the door and standing in the entrance, scanning the room for any sign of their leader. She didn’t normally make a habit out of hanging around at the bar, much preferring to read than drink, so her appearance in the doorway with a mysterious boy by her side turned many heads and raised a few eyebrows in curiosity.

To Jughead, it seemed like everyone in the dimly lit room was staring at him and Betty. He wished he could be invisible as the normal anxiety bubbled up in his stomach and latched onto his gut while more and more patrons turned in their seats. After their motorcycle ride, Jughead felt a barrier had been crossed with Betty and he was almost comfortable around her. However, being here dropped him right back a square 1.

He was about to dart right back out of the door when Betty grabbed his arm and pointed to a table in the corner.

“I can't see him," She said, slightly louder than usual to compensate for the music. “Let’s wait over there.”

Jughead just nodded in response and let himself be dragged away.

The table was small and secluded, most of the serpents preferring to be where the action is instead of being holed away. Jughead sat straight down as Betty walked over to the bar to ask if anyone knew when he’d be back.

He couldn’t help but notice that here, she was different. Her shoulders were squared as she talked to the barmen and her hand were in tight fists to her side. The subtle vulnerability he’d seen back at the trailer were gone, instead replaced by a hardened exterior he knew, from experience, could only be built up over years of hurt and pain. It must be one of the many reasons he’d taken an instant liking to her.

As soon as Jughead realised he was staring he looked straight back down at the table. What was wrong with him? He’d always prided himself on not thinking with his dick like most guys his age, but there was something about Betty that drew him in.

“The guys recon he’ll be back in about an hour” Betty sighed as she sat opposite him and placed a glass in front of each of them. “So, you might as well stick around till then. I didn’t know if you drank, so I hope sodas ok.”

“It’s fine." Jughead began, playing with the sleeve of his denim jacket, yet another part of him that stuck out like a sore thumb I this sea of leather.

"Good" Betty smiled, seeming relaxed again as she took a sip of her drink.

"Look, Betty, you can go now, if you want to go and hang out with your friends or whatever… you don't have to babysit me.” Jughead mumbled.

Betty contemplated for a moment. A normal person would have thanked him and left. Officially he was a stranger. She didn't know him.

But this stranger had made her laugh more in the past 30 minutes than she had laughed all year. He was shy and mysterious and very oblivious to his good looks so why would she turn away now.

It may not be the normal thing to do, but Betty was anything but normal. So, before she could second guess herself, Betty grabbed the hand that he’d let rest on the table between them and held it in her own.

As soon as he felt her hand in his, Jughead felt a heat rise in his cheeks that he desperately tried to hold down.

“Jughead. I’m not going to pretend to know about anything that went on between you and your family, but clearly things are messed up.”

“Understatement of the year” He muttered as he continued to fight the reddening of his cheeks.

“Look, I just want to know what your plan is.” Betty implored. “Does FP even know you’re coming to see him?”

Jughead finally looked at her and melted under her intense gaze. “Betty, if I had any way to contact my Dad, trust me, I would have been back here years ago.”

“Why didn’t you then?” Betty asked, rubbing her thumb over the back of his hand. “Why haven’t you come back sooner?”

“Betty, I literally met you half an hour ago. How can I trust you?” Jughead chuckled dryly, pulling his hand away from her. “Plus, you don’t want to hear about all my heavy shit.”

“Jughead, I have like no friends, who exactly would I tell.” Betty chuckled, it being her turn to look at the table embarrassed. “Also, it’s not like I don’t have my own share of heavy shit. Trust me when I say, I’m in no position to judge you.”

"Are you sure you wanna hear about this?"

"Of course, your like the urban myth of the serpents. No one really knows what happened with FP's family and clearly you need to vent so..."

Jughead contemplated her for a second, pulling off his beanie and tucking it in his back pocket. "Okay, ask away Betty."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

“Ok… Jughead. What happened with your mom and dad?” Betty asked, genuinely interested.

“Well, when we lived in Sunnyside, it was my dad, my mom, me and my sister Jellybean.” Jughead began as Betty chocked on her drink.

“Sorry, sorry. Just… Jellybean and Jughead?” She giggled softly, and the noise spurred the butterflies in Jughead’s stomach.

“You going to let me tell you or not?” He chuckled, her laughter infectious.

“Yes, yes. I’m sorry” Betty said, wiping her mouth on the back of her sleeve and putting on a serious face. “This is serious, no more laughing.”

“Okay but remember I did warn you.” Jughead sighed, more sombre than earlier.

“FP has always been a functioning alcoholic. Considering he literally lives in a bar now, I’m guessing he still is.” Betty nodded as he continued. “Well, when I was younger FP would be out all day at work and would stumble home drunk at night. Anyway, he was never home and when he was my mom would always be picking a fight. They'd argue constantly and when he wasn't home she take all that out on me. She hated me because I 'reminded her of him'”

Jughead could feel himself getting angrier, but he couldn’t help the unresolved tensions from bubbling up as he poured his heart out to the girl he’d just met. It was unconventional but maybe telling someone was exactly what he needed to do.

“Anyway, one night FP came back with a few of his Serpent friends from the bar and they must have done some fucked up shit because when I woke up the next morning my mom was screaming at him. It was like she’d finally snapped and before I knew it she was asking me to pack up my things to go live with our grandparents in Toledo. I don't know why she took me in the first place, even in Toledo she treated me like shit. I didn't fit in with what she wanted her new life to look like so here I am.”

Betty had continued to listen intently, as if the crowded bar had just faded away while Jughead spoke. “I’m so sorry Jughead."

He smiled and sipped his drink.

"If you don’t mind me asking, what was so bad about Toledo to make you want to come back? I know she's a shit mom but your dad's still an alcoholic.”

Jughead scoffed. “Well, he's pretty much my only option now.”

“Jughead, I can’t help if you don’t tell me”

“And how exactly would you help Betty?” Jughead asked.

“Well…” Betty said as she crossed her arms and lean forward, unperturbed by his sharp tone. “I won’t know till you tell me.”

“You don’t give up, do you?” Jughead asked, quirking an eyebrow at the curious blonde in front of him.

“Rarely… if ever” Betty declared, biting her lip to try and contain a smile at the flirty banter that seemed to flow so naturally between them.

As she held her lip between her teeth, Jughead felt the heat rise in his cheeks one again.

Yes, he was defiantly blushing now.

 Jughead was about to tell her when Betty shot up from the table, knocking over her pint glass.

“Shit” She mumbled, frantically looking between the spillage and the door.

“Betty” Jughead asked, standing up beside her. “What is it?”

Before she could reply, a gruff voice called his name for the other side of the room.

“Jughead?” FP shouted over the mellow rock playing in the bar, turning heads as he squinted at the boy in the corner.

“Dad”


	2. Is it warmth and familiarity?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry! Things have been extremely busy for me recently and will continue to be so updates won't be as regular. But leave me some comments and feedback because it really incentives me to write more x

Jughead didn’t recognise the man in front of him. FP’s face was gaunt and pale, the shadows that had always been a feature of his father’s face were more like bruises. He was also sporting a fully fleshed out beard that, although short, covered a substantial portion of his face. Looking at the man in front of him, Jughead felt a strange nostalgia for the days FP would pick him up in his arms, engulfing his small frame and hug his son tight to his chest. Back then he’d always squirm and pull away, hitting FP’s chest when his stubble would tickle his cheek.

There were so many memories of that kind. But now, looking back, he wished he hadn’t pulled away at all. Instead, he wished a young Jughead had flung his arms around his father’s neck and not let go. He wished he’d relished in his father’s sobriety and not taken those precious moments for granted.

But alas, it was too late to change the past now.

FP strode purposefully towards them, stopping just short of his son, unsure of how to broad this situation. His arms left his sides momentarily as if he was about to hug him before he thought better and kept them down while the two men studied each other.

“So, it is you” FP chuckled, attempting to distract from the crippling awkwardness. “I wouldn’t have recognised you if it wasn’t for that hat. Can’t believe it still fits you”

“Yeah” Jughead scratched the back of his neck and looked toward Betty who wore a sympathetic look as she watched the father and son interact. “Sorry for… you know, turning up unannounced and all”

“What are you doing here? Are your mom and Jellybean here too?” FP asked with hopeful eyes which made Jughead feel even worse about the reality.

“No, just me.” Jughead confessed as he watched the hope drain from his father’s face. “Actually, mom kicked me out a few months back.”

Betty, who had been watching FP intently, turned to face Jughead. Her eyes were wide and heartbroken for the boy she’d just met. “You didn’t tell me that Jug”

“I warned you it was some heavy shit” Jughead replied dryly, his eye’s finding Betty’s green ones which were glazed over with unshed tears.

“That doesn’t make sense, where have you been living till now?” Betty asked, the tears threatening to spill over. She knew it was foolish to feel so much pain for the boy she’d just met, but Betty couldn’t help the feelings of sympathy that overtook her and snaked their way around her gut.

“It doesn’t matter” Jughead muttered, an anger bubbling up inside him at Betty’s intrusive questions. Why was she interfering in something that had nothing to do with her? He turned to FP who had been watching in confusion and nodded in his direction. “Look, can we talk?”

“I’m all ears”

“In private?” Jughead asked, glaring toward Betty who just stood watching the pair with a hurt expression before turning away.

FP nodded and gestured toward a staircase in the opposite corner. “Sure. Let’s talk in my apartment”

FP began to walk as Jughead grabbed the jacket from the back of his chair, glancing to Betty who had grabbed a cloth from the bar and was knelt clearing up her spilled water from the floor. As he threw it over his arm, Jughead felt the red mist clear and a crippling guilt twist in his gut.

When Betty stood and turned away from him - blatantly trying to ignore his presence - he shuffled forward and tapped her shoulder lightly. Betty whipped around and fixed him with an icy glare that made his word stick in his throat for several seconds. “I… I’m sorry about that Betty. I didn’t mean to be a dick or anything” He said, rubbing the back of his neck as she scoffed.

“Don’t worry Jughead, you don’t owe me anything.” Betty replied, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

Jughead tried to grab her hand again but Betty immediately retracted it. Instead, she slammed the cloth down on the table and breezed through the crowd toward the door.

“Betty!” Jughead shouted as she disappeared through the exit and a silence took over the bar, only interrupted by the soft rock that continued to drone on in the background.

Being caught up in the moment had briefly distracted Jughead from the fact almost every eye in the building was on him. He felt the anxiety, which had been a very prominent feature of that day, bubble up and consume him. Desperate to escape the walls which seemed to be closing in, he walked as fast as he could toward where his father was waiting by the stairs and clumsily ascended them, blocking out the word until he could turn and lean his back against the wall.

FP had followed his estranged son immediately with a plan to ask him what the hell just happened, however, when he saw him white as a sheet and breathing as if he’d just sprinted across Southside, he was clueless as what to do.

“Hey, umm, you ok?” He asked as he scratched the back of his neck.

Jughead’s eyes snapped up to his father’s as he began to calm down. Taking a few more deep breaths, he pushed off the wall and stood awkwardly in front of the man he so desperately wanted to feel comfortable around. “Yeah, FP. I’m fine. Just a little tired you know”

“Yeah, yeah, of course you are.” He replied, fumbling with the keys as he tried to unlock his apartment door. “You can crash on the couch if you want. Toledo has to be a brutal bus ride”

“You don’t know the half of it” Jughead chuckled as the door swung open and he was faced with his Dad’s bachelor pad.

“Sorry about the mess” FP apologised, rushing around and collecting up the bottles that littered various surfaces. “It’s not usually this bad”

‘Yeah right’ Jughead thought but decided to keep to himself in favour of scooping up a pile of un-ironed laundry from the sofa and dumping it on a nearby counter so he could sit down.

“So…. You want something to drink?” FP asked from the doorway to the kitchen. “I got soda, tea, coffee, water. You’re still too young for alcohol, right?”

Jughead sighed and rolled his eyes, the realisation of how much he didn’t know his father hitting him.

FP moved a pillow and slumped down on the other end of the couch, cradling it to his chest. “You know you can call me Dad, right?”

“Why would I, you haven’t exactly been a great one” Jughead spat back, anger at his abandonment filling him to the brim until he couldn’t hold back the venom any longer.

“Hey, I may not have been the best father- “

“No” Jughead exclaimed, cutting his father off and standing to pace in front of him. “You don’t even come under the bracket of father as far as I’m concerned”

“Woah Jug… hold on- “

“No, for once you’re going to listen to me. Your son” Jughead pointed an accusatory finger at FP as his anger started to escalate, “A dad is supposed to be there for their son. Not drive their family away with abuse and manipulation. Yu were supposed to be the person Iwas closest too, the person I could turn to when I was struggling with schoolwork or… or the girl I like doesn’t like me back. You… you were supposed to fight for me.”

FP had the decency to look guilty as Jughead continued to fume, his voice breaking slightly.

“You know what the worst thing is?” Jughead could feel the tears burning behind his eyes as he desperately let go of the emotions he’d bottled up for the past 8 years. “The worst thing is, despite you being an all-round shitty role model, I still dreamed about coming back every fucking day! I put you on this pedestal, I tried to forget of the shitty stuff you’d done to me. Here with you - in this town - was supposed to be my home. But now, coming back, it’s just brought it all flooding back.”

“Jug, I’m sorry” FP watched as tears ran down his sons face and all he wanted to do was envelop Jughead in his arms to try and take at least a small amount of the pain away. “I just… I always thought you’d be better off without me. Thought you had a good thing going on in Toledo with your Mom and Jellybean.”

Jughead shook his head disbelievingly and turned toward the kitchen. He felt the dampness of his cheeks and desperately rubbed at his eyes to clear his vision. They stayed silent for several minutes before Jughead looked toward a small mirror on the wall and caught sight of his bloodshot eyes and beanie askew. This visit had brought up too many painful memories, and he needed to get out. “I don’t think it would be a good idea for me to stay here tonight.”

FP looked up immediately. Jughead was still facing away from him, but he could hear the crack in his voice. “Don’t be stupid boy. You don’t have anywhere to go.”

Jughead marched to the door before giving his Dad one last lingering look.

“I’ll figure it out Dad. I always do.”

***

His bag. Shit!

The though only occurred to Jughead as he walked down the Southside sidewalk.

He never forgot his bag. Rule 1 of living rough was never take your eyes off your possessions and in his first 5 minutes in Riverdale he’d managed to lose it. It wasn’t going to be a comfortable night’s sleep without any soft surface, let alone the worry of where it was nagging at him all night. Panicking, he retraced is steps in his mind to try and remember, in the small number of places he’d visited in Riverdale, where he would have left it.

Jughead had definitely taken it with him off the bus and he was almost certain he didn’t have it when he’d gone up to his Dad’s apartment. He was positive he didn’t have it on him when riding Betty’s bike, which could only mean one place.

“Fuck!”

***

“Elizabeth!”

Betty didn’t know it was humanly possible to roll her eyes as far back as she did when Alice called her name from the living room, but she somehow managed it. Sliding off her bed she trudged through the trailer to find her mother standing with her hands on her hips and her face set in a deep scowl.

“What is it mother” Betty said, voice plastered with faux interest.

“I thought we had a rule Betty dear” Alice explained, smiling dangerously as she approached her daughter. “No boys in the trailer. I’m not having another Polly incident.”

“What are you talking about?” Betty asked, feigning innocence when inside she was screaming. How could Alice possibly know Jughead had been inside for, what, 5 minutes? It was like she was a fucking sniffer dog.

“Please honey. Don’t lie to me.” Alice chuckled as she cupped Betty’s cheek, pinching hard before stepping back and toeing something under the coffee table. “Or at least next time, remind them to take all their things home if you want to get away with it.”

Alice quirked an eyebrow before grabbing her bag and throwing on her pastel pink trench coat - which looked more suited to someone her age than her middle-aged mother – before walking to the door. “I’m off to the office to finish tomorrow’s issue, don’t wait up.”

The door slammed shut, and Betty was left in merciful silence for five blissful minutes until there was a knock at the door.

“For fuck sake” She muttered, tripping slightly as she stumbled to the door. “Who is it?”

“It’s me… wait. It’s Jughead!”

Betty froze, her palms getting sweaty as she recalled the overreaction she’d had earlier before opening the door to see him sopping wet on the other side. “Oh my god Jughead. Your soaked, come in”

“I’m just here for my bag, then I’ll be out of your hair” Jughead sighed, removing his beanie and squeezing the water out on the doorstep.

“It’s ok” Betty squeaked, feeling a plethora of emotions hit her all at once. Anger at Jughead for keeping things from her and then guilt at feeling like he owed her answers. But really, she wasn’t sure what she felt, but it made her blush and her stomach do somersault when he looked at her through his damp fringe.

“So…” Jughead began, praying Betty couldn’t see the tear tracks from his walk over.

“What?” Betty asked, looking like a rabbit caught in the headlights.

“My bag?” Jughead smirked. “Where is it?”

Betty exhaled deeply. “Under the coffee table, where you left it.” This wasn’t like her at all. Getting flustered over a boy went against every wall she’d tried to build over the last 6 years. Yet she still couldn’t help it.

Jughead knelt down and went to pick up his bag and threw it over his shoulder. “I should get going now; it’s getting late and I don’t really wanna walk in the dark.”

“You walked here?” Betty asked sympathetically, if slightly confused. “Didn’t your Dad give you a lift or-“

Betty stopped herself when she saw the tears building in Jughead’s eyes as he starred at the pristine carpet underfoot.

“Jug? Hey, what’s wrong?”

Jughead didn’t bother answering as the tears finally fell, their salty tracks staining his flushed cheeks. His knees buckled causing him to stumble back onto the couch while he continued to silently weep.

Suddenly, he felt two slender arms encompass him. A soothing voice whispering in his ear as he let go of all the negative feelings he’d bottled up about his father for so long.

***

After what felt like an hour, but was probably more like 10 minutes, Jughead sat up and wiped his eyes. He didn’t look at Betty, doubtfully she would even want to talk to him after his little break down.

The trailer was deadly silent for a few more minutes before Betty leaned over, resting her palm on his leg and rubbing gently as she spoke. “Is it about your dad?”

“Yeah.” Jughead admitted, looking up to see her giving him a soft, sympathetic look. The pity he’d expected to see there was non-existent and he breathed a sigh of relief that she appeared to understand. “We had a fight and it brought up some stuff I must have pushed pretty deep down over the years.”

“What are you going to do? Are you going to go back or…” Betty trailed off as Jughead looked back down at the bag by his feet.

“Actually, I was planning on crashing on a park bench by the bus stop until the earliest train out of here”

Betty gasped and shuffled forward, resting her hand on her hip. “Jug. Are you serious?”

“It’s not the first time Betty, don’t worry. I just don’t want to have to face my Dad again.”

“You do realise there’s no way in hell I’m going to let you leave here if that’s your only plan” Betty asked, chuckling slightly at Jughead confused expression.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying… you’re staying here tonight, whether you like it or not. Our couch is surprisingly comfy”

“Betty. Are your parents going to be ok with that?” Jughead asked, trying not to let his enthusiasm overtake his rational thinking.

“My mom is a dragoness, but we can jump that hurdle when we get to it” Betty said as she moved to stand in front of him.

“I’m still not sure Betty”

“Trust me, she’s been working nights since… well, trust me she won’t be home anytime soon. I’m pretty sure she has a secret boyfriend she visits after work anyway, so she probably won’t be back till morning”

“Ok… As long as you’re ok with it”

“Of course, I’m ok with it. It was my idea” Betty grinned as she picked up a blanket from the armchair and chucked it to Jughead, hitting him square in the face. “Now, you change into whatever you’ve got in that bottomless bag of yours and I’ll pick a movie.”

Jughead chuckled to himself as he began riffling through his bag. “Ok, but be warned, I have a very specific taste”

Betty leant against the door frame and smirked. “Let me guess… With the whole James dean thing going on, I’d say ‘Rebel without a cause’” Jughead’s eyes lit up and Betty giggled. “Unfortunately for you, we don’t have it. But I'm pretty into Hitchcock so how about ‘Psycho’?”

“Hmm, I’m more a ‘Dial M for murder’ guy myself.”

“Mmm, murder, treachery and love. A man after my own heart, I’ll go check it’s in the box” Betty said, biting her lip and leaving Jughead alone.

***

“Stop!” Betty exclaimed, pulling her end of the blanket harder in an attempt to wrestle it back. “3 films in and you still haven’t learned to share a freaking blanket”

“Freaking?” Jughead laughed, puling equally as hard from his end of the couch. “Watch your language there, Betty”

“Shut the fuck up and watch” Betty snapped playfully when Jughead gave the blanket another tug.

They both focused on the screen once more where Grace Kelly as Lisa was visiting Jeff in Rear Window.

“I love her so much.” Betty announced from where she practically lay at the opposite end of the couch. “She’s so iconic. I mean, to even appear in a film directed by Alfred Hitchcock is one thing, but to star in three? She’s incredible”

“I thought of her when I first saw you” Jughead let slip as Betty sat up straighter so she could look him in the eye.

“What?” Betty asked, pausing the film and waiting for Jughead to expand on his confession.

“When I first saw you… coming out of the shower.” Jughead cringed at how that sounded but he’d dug himself into a hole that he desperately need to escape from. “When you came out I thought you looked like the epitome of a Hitchcock blonde. I mean you’re so beautiful Betty... you know, in that old school, film noir sense.”

Betty felt her heart tug as Jughead rambled on. She felt a blush creep onto her cheeks when he stopped himself and just looked at her. “That’s probably the nicest thing anyone had ever said to me”

“Sorry if it was a bit forward, but it’s the truth” Jughead said, shying away slightly after letting his walls slip for a moment.

“It’s ok Jug. I know we haven’t known each other very long, but I feel like… I don’t know. It’s just so easy to speak to you. I’ve never really had that with anyone else before.”

“I get it Betty, I really do.” Jughead exhaled deeply, running his fingers through his hair. “If I’m being honest, most of the time I feel like an outsider. Like everyone else is living their lives and I’m just watching it all unfold in front of me. I want to join in but it’s like there’s… I don’t know”

“Like there’s some invisible barrier?” Betty offered and Jughead just nodded, smiling down at his lap. “I feel like that too, Jug. It’s as if the universe is working against me.”

“That’s exactly what it’s like” Jughead grinned, leaning forward on his palms as Betty smiled back. “I’ve just, ironically, never been able to put in to words.”

“Ironically?” Betty asked as she sunk back into the couch, eyeing Jughead curiously.

“Yeah…umm” Jughead began, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand; a nervous tick he’d picked up from FP years ago. “I write. Not anything ground-breaking, just the occasional story here and there.”

Betty shot up, mimicking his earlier position as she leaned forward on her palms. “No way, so do I.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, I run our school newspaper - when we’re not on break that is. I only write non-fiction though. I could never conceive a whole new world in my head.”

Jughead watched Betty as she continued to speak passionately about the newspaper. The way her hands expressed every point she made and the way her lips moved so freely. If he ignored the circumstances of their meeting and his initial misplaced attraction, it was as if the more they knew about each other the more similar, he realised, they were.

On the outside they seemed so mismatched. She was a serpent. Part of an infamous, social group while he was a complete outsider. She was in the middle of it all while he was the conscientious objector. Their personalities just shouldn’t gel the way they did.

Come to think of it, the more he tried the more he failed to see how Betty would fit in with the Serpents. She presents herself, as he’d seen at the bar, as a tough chick who wasn’t going to take anyone else’s shit. But in the couple of hours he’d spent with her, he’d been able to see right through it.

She was living a lie and the worst thing was, nobody around her had even appeared to have realised.

“So that’s me” Betty interrupted his thoughts and Jughead realised he hadn’t really been paying attention for the past few minutes. “What about you?”

“Why are you a Serpent?” Jughead blurted, taking Betty back slightly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out like that. I just… Don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t seem to really fit in there and-”

“Jug. Don’t apologise, I ask myself the same question every day” Betty interjected, her hands balling into fists.

“Then why are you?”

Betty sighed, shifting on the couch again as she built up the courage to explain herself to Jughead. After everything he’d shared with her, she shouldn’t feel this scared to explain herself to him. But his openness didn’t stop her feeling a niggle of self-doubt, the irrational thought that he was just pretending to like her and would report back anything she said to FP. The thought devoured Betty in the back of her mind as she took a deep breath.

“I guess I first joined them in an attempt to piss off my mom.” She breathed, staring at her fists. “But now, I’m just there for self-preservation. If I leave I’m unprotected and trust me, you don’t want to be unprotected at Southside High.”

“That’s fair enough” Jughead sighed, offering Betty a half smile as he reached for the snacks on the table. “Are you happy though? With the Serpents I mean.”

“I don’t think I’ve been truly happy for years.” Betty admitted. “We moved here after my parents divorced, but this trailer has never really felt like home for me”

“I’m the opposite. The last time I was happy was probably here.” Jughead smiled fondly, looking around the unrecognisable, but somehow familiar trailer.

“Well, I’m happy right now” Betty smiled, looking between her hands and his lips.

Jughead stilled. This felt like the perfect moment to do something. But he didn’t know what. He could ask her out? Kiss her? Or would a hug be more appropriate in this situation. The voice in his head was screaming to make a move, but still he held back as the shouts of self-doubt drowned it out.

‘Why would she want you to kiss her?’

‘You’re way more attracted to her that she is to you’

‘You seriously think after a few hours she’d be interested?’

‘Why the hell would she have feelings toward someone like you anyway?

“Jug?” Betty asked, waving her hand in front of his face.

“Hmm”

“You kind of zoned out for a minute there” Betty chuckled while Jughead scolded himself.

“Sorry it was… I was just going to ask-”

“Elizabeth! Are you still up?”

Betty’s heart dropped in her chest when the chilling voice of Alice Cooper filtered through the trailer.

“Shit is that-”

“Yeah it is” Betty squealed, leaping off the couch and into the armchair beside it, taking the blanket with her. “Hey mom”

Alice dropped her keys by the door and eyed the two with suspicion. “Elizabeth, who is this? I thought I said-”

“Mom. This is Jughead Jones.” Betty interrupted Alice before she could make some elitist comments about Jughead’s beanie or the tattered hem of his t-shirt.

“Jones?” Alice said as her face grew red with anger. “As in FP Jones? That Serpent who manipulated my daughter into joining those thugs-”

“Mom! Stop. Please”

Jughead sat awkwardly watching the interaction in front of him; praying there was an easy way out wherein he didn’t have to engage with Betty’s mom.

“Well Elizabeth.” Alice declared, flipping her hair over her shoulder and focusing attention back to her daughter. “It’s time your guest went home for the night. We wouldn’t want his father to worry”

Jughead looked at Betty with panicky eyes before she shot him a reassuring look. It was then, once again that day, he saw a switch flip in her brain and she was suddenly like a whole new person. Her posture was dead straight, her hands clasped on her chest like a prayer and her eyes were wide and pleading.

“Actually…” Betty drawled out the word like a 5-year-old trying to convince their parent to give them an extra cookie. “I was really hoping Juggie would be able to stay, just this one night”

His heart did a somersault when she used his old, but never forgotten, nickname previously reserved only for his little sister. For some reason though, it didn’t bother him nearly as much as it should have. Not like when Andrea had said it to flirt with him in 8th grade, or even when Gladys had called him Juggie in an attempt to guilt trip him. In fact, when Betty called him Juggie, he revelled in the feeling.

“No way Elizabeth.” Alice scoffed, throwing her hands in the air. “There is no way in hell am I letting a stranger sleep under my roof! Especially a male one.”

“Come on mommy. He has nowhere else to go.” Betty pleaded, her bottom lip poking out as she grabbed Alice’s hands. “If the roles were reversed, you wouldn’t want anyone letting me sleep on the streets.”

“I know you’d never be foolish enough to get yourself in the situation in the first place Elizabeth! Whatever this Jug-head had done, it’s his problem, not ours.” Alice huffed. “Now please straighten out the sofa and say goodbye.”

Betty’s innocent persona dropped while her mother spoke. Her hands curled into small fists and her jaw was clenched as if she was about to attack.

“I’ll just go Betty. It’s no big deal” Jughead muttered, already gathering up his possessions.

Betty ignored him and continued to stare at her mother. “My name’s not Elizabeth, mom. It’s Betty, and this is my home too. I invited Jughead, so he’s going to stay whether you like it or not.”

“Don’t you dare speak back to your mother like that Elizabeth”

“Or what?” Betty threatened, squaring up to her mother.

“What was that?” Alice’s eyes darkened as she grabbed Betty’s wrist forcefully, pulling her even closer so their breaths mingled. She stared her daughter directly in the eye as she almost dared her to step out of line. Betty felt her grip tighten even further as she leaned in to whisper back. “Don’t make me embarrass myself in front of your new friend. So, do as I say Elizabeth, because we both know what I’m capable of”

Alice spat her name out with such venom Betty backed away immediately, tears brimming in her eyes as she tore her arm away. She’d been foolish to think she could twist her mother’s arm and, in fear of what she knew her mother could do, she stood down. Alice smirked smugly and left the room, at least allowing Betty to say goodbye.

Jughead, who’d been watching the scene in front of him unfold with trepidation, broke his gaze away to pack the few thing’s he taken out back into his bag.

“Jug, what are you doing” Betty asked, wiping tears from her eyes as she watched him throw his Sherpa over his pyjama shirt.

“I think it’s best if I just go Betty.” He exhaled, slinging his bag onto his back. “I don’t want you getting in trouble because of me”

“But, I… I can still talk to her and maybe-” Betty trailed off when Jughead sombrely shook his head and continued to pack.

“I’ll find somewhere. I’m pretty sure the bench at the station has a shelter, so I won’t be completely drenched” Jughead sighed, stopping in his tracks when he saw the heart-breaking expression on Betty’s face. “Hey, I’ll be fine”

“But you won’t will you” Betty whispers as Jughead steps forward to take her hands in his.

“I’ll be fine Betty, please don’t worry about me. I’m used to… well, I’ll be fine.”

A small “Okay” escapes Betty’s lips as she stares, fixated, on her hands enclosed in Jugheads.

Jughead sees Betty’s distracted expression and follows her eyes to their hands.

Suddenly self-conscious, Jughead drops her hands hurriedly and pulled on his beanie in an attempt to cover the reddening of his ears.

“Thanks for everything.” Jughead mumbled, adjusting the straps on his bag and heading reluctantly for the door. “I guess I’ll see you around?”

Betty, who had been shocked at his sudden rebuff, shook her head and turned to see Jughead with his hand on the door handle.

“I’m sorry what?”

“I’ll see you around?” Jughead repeated.

“Yeah, yeah of course” Betty rambled.

Jughead opened the door and stepped outside, glancing back at Betty for one last look to see her standing right beside him.

“Wait. Take this.” She said, pressing a key into his hand.

“What’s this for?”

“The local Drive In.” Betty breathed. “I work there over the summer, well, did anyway. It’s scheduled for demolition, but that key will open the booth.”

Jughead continue to give her a questioning look

“There’s a small cot on the floor for when I needed to crash during some John green movie” Betty smirked, her hand lingering on his for a second too long. “It’s not that comfortable but better than a bench, right?”

“Are you sure?” Jughead asked, eyes wide at Betty’s offer. A roof over his head and real blankets were a vast improvement, but he couldn’t help being wary at her generosity. There was a long and tragic list as to why he had an inability to trust even the most upstanding people but, if he were honest, he just wasn’t used to people treating him with such respect.

Betty chuckled and stepped back, her hands clasped in front of her. “Of course I’m sure. If you’re there it means I won’t be worrying about you all night.”

“Betty, I…”

“Elizabeth, hurry along now!”

“It’s not far, I promise. Take a left the station and follow the road till you see the signs. Leave the key with the station receptionist in the morning and I'll pick it up.” Betty rushed, the giddy glint in her eye replaced by fear at the sound of her mother’s voice. “Goodbye… Jughead Jones.”

“Hey,” Jughead began, stepping back to allow her space to close the door. “I still don’t know your last name.”

“Cooper. It’s… my names Betty Cooper” Betty smiled, swiftly shutting the door straight afterwards when the footsteps of Alice Cooper could be distinctly heard approaching.

As the artificial light disappeared and he was left in darkness, Jughead couldn’t help the cheek splitting grin that overtook him as he continued to stare at the trailer door.

“Goodnight, Betty Cooper.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not totally happy with this but oh well, you've waited long enough. 
> 
> (Cba to find the link but my Tumblr is the same name)

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this listening to Waitress the Musical.  
> (Don't worry if you've never heard of it, I just love obscure musicals)
> 
> Calm! I promise I have a plan for The woe of Juliet... it's just taking longer than imagined and I had this in my head. Although, you can expect regular updates (at least one a week) for this bad boi!
> 
> Anyway, leave me some comments and tell me what you think!
> 
> If you do want to shout at me though, message me on my Tumblr at:
> 
> https://butwelivehappilyeverafter.tumblr.com/


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